Found in the lobby of my local grocery store:

There is so much to say about this, but what I keep staring at is the fact that they're "chocolate scented." That may forever destroy my relationship with chocolate.

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Easter is all about a man who came back from the dead, so naturally we must be talking about Superman. That description applies doubly to the statue now sitting beside my television.

It was a gift from a friend. He had ordered it for himself from eBay, but when it arrived in a shoebox of broken parts, I got an unexpected gift. Years ago he gave me a cracked copy of the Jan & Dean Meet Batman record album. "Give it to Walter; he'll glue anything!" (This is probably why I can't have nice things.)

Fortunately for Superman, I could rebuild him. I had the technology. Don't tell Steve Austin, but a new tube of 2-part epoxy costs considerably less than 6 million dollars. After a week of wire, tape, glue, and touch-up paint, Superman may not be good as new, but he's much better than he was.

Now if you'll excuse me, I think I hear some peanut-butter filled chocolate eggs calling my name.

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Whoops. Skipped a day there, didn't I? It wasn't a mistake. I just didn't feel like turning on my computer and blogging after baking a yellow cake from scratch for my father's birthday.

Of course the cake wasn't really the hard part. No, that was the boiled icing. My maternal great-grandmother used to be a baker of some local renown, and her recipies, like all ancient texts, are something of an enigma to decipher. However, after some trial and error over the years (plus a quick review of pertinent information in The Joy of Cooking and a tabbing through Google for "boiled chocolate icing"), I've got the icing down pretty good.

Her recipie:

• 3 c sugar
• 1 c milk
• 1 stick butter
• 2 sq bitter chocolate
• 1 T Karo syrup

Stir on high until it boils, turn down and cook to 230° or until it forms a soft ball in water. Let it cool about 20° before stirring. Add vanilla (1t), beat until it doesn't go back into itself too quickly. Put onto cake. Cools quickly after beginning to ice.

Momo wasn't kidding. If you attempt this yourself, know that you have maybe a minute (or maybe two, tops!) of working time to spread that icing. Once it leaves the heat, it starts forming a hard, delicious shell of chocolate.

Bon appetite, Dad.

(Note that this was a food exchange: I made my great-grandmother's cake, and he made his mother's grape leaves. The cake might have been a lot of work, but I'm pretty sure I came out ahead in the deal.)

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Last week a friend complained that he couldn't search my blog to see if I'd seen a particular movie. That's because at the time, the Wriphe.com search function only checked against keywords. I've since upgraded the search function so you can now look to see if I've ever posted about, say, my favorite Batman villain Harvey Dent (aka Two-Face) or my favorite food group, chocolate. And, naturally, I've left the old keyword search in place as well, if you just want to click on a keyword below a post to find related posts.

That movie he was checking on? The Seven Voyages of Sinbad, which I have seen before but have never mentioned on the blog. In recent years, I've only been posting reviews of new-to-me movies, so if I saw something before 2012, it's likely not mentioned here unless I either loved it or hated it, in which case it might have its own keyword.

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Mother spent hours yesterday watching news reporting of the birth of Queen Elizabeth II's great-grandson. Literally 6 hours of television in which all they had to say was "it's a boy." No idea what its name will be, no details on the delivery, no press conference from the royal family. Just reporters gibbering at one another, "have you heard that there's a baby!?!"

CNN gleefully ran and reran footage of an American woman standing at the gates of Buckingham Palace saying how magical this event was. As if she didn't previously understand that children weren't really delivered by storks. As if this was the end of the fairy tale, and from this point forward we all lived happily ever after.

I don't get it. Kim Kardashian is as close as America gets to royalty. She has her own TV show, and her new baby hasn't gotten 6 hours of coverage.

It strikes me as a little offensive that we're already acting like this kid is somehow more important than all the other babies in the world. Once upon a time, America went to war to ensure that it wouldn't have a royal family, so what are we so excited about now? Even in Britain, the royal family isn't exactly necessary to the governance, so celebrating the birth as "continuity of succession" isn't entirely appropriate.

Hey, if the kid turns out to be the second coming of Christ or made from living chocolate, I'll understand. Otherwise, let's just say congratulations to the proud parents and get over it already.

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The Newnan Kennel Club Spring Dog Show was Easter weekend. Mom woke me up so that she could see the scottish terriers. I got out of bed so that I could see the standard poodles.

Nice day for a dog show.

Poodles are like potato chips: you can't have just one.

The owner of this beautiful chocolate poodle says she vowed "never again" to own a white poodle.

The Best in Breed winning scottie (Lena from Atlanta!); she had a hard time keeping her tail up in the Terrier Group competition.

Best in Show winner, Miniature Pincher Grand Champion Marlex Classic Red Glare (aka "Classie"). She was cute!

Reserve Best in Show winner, Grand Champion Jaset's Satisfaction (aka "London"). She was robbed!

This poodle, London, is the reigning 2012 Eukanuba Non-Sporting Breed American champion! He's the top-winning black male poodle in American Kennel Club History. He has his own Facebook page. We were in the presence of poodle royalty!

(Though I joked above that London was robbed, Min Pin Classie is a monster in the ring in her own right. If you can stand the cute, you'll find a bunch of pics of Classie here.)

I should also mention that we were introduced to a large black dog of a breed that neither Mom nor I had met before. It was a beautiful and friendly Black Russian Terrier. We didn't find out until later that his name was Zil (officially Grand Champion Zilya's Chicago Blues Fusion at Runes CD RN, CGC, TT, which is why they probably call him just "Zil"), and he's the winningest Black Russian Terrier in American Kennel Club history. More dog royalty, and to think I didn't snap a single picture of him! Arg!

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EXT. PATIO - NIGHT.

WALTER and TREY sit in plastic patio adirondack chairs. The only light comes from the window in the kitchen door. Walter holds a Coca-Cola can, Trey drinks a beer from a bottle. The pair are discussing potential content for the Wriphe.com blog.

TREY

It has to be about Superman and advertising?

WALTER

No, Superman or advertising. It's an either/or. I'm trying to make it broader in appeal, not narrower.

TREY

What about advertisements that feature Facebook? I don't mean commercials for Facebook, but commercials that include Facebook in advertising another project. Like that car commercial where the girl talks about how many more friends she has on Facebook than her parents. You know the one: "that's too small to be a real puppy!"

WALTER

Okay, that's one, but what other commercials feature Facebook?

TREY

Nothing comes to mind. But there has to be something else, right? Do a little research!

WALTER

Why would I research commercials that reference Facebook? I don't even like Facebook.

TREY

That's why. Your website is the blog equivalent of the comic strip Cathy. You freak out about stupid things.

WALTER

How dare you compare my blog to Cathy? I'm more like the Calvin and Hobbes of blogging! Crazy but well rendered ideas!

TREY

You, like Calvin? Now that's crazy! No, you're more like the Curtis of blogging: your runaway ego always gets you into trouble.

WALTER

Aack!

Frustrated by Trey's typically misunderstanding male perspective, Walter storms inside the kitchen door in search of some non-judgemental chocolate.

THE END

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Move over chocolate and peanut butter, you've got company. I was supposed to be updating the website this weekend, but instead I spent all day playing Dungeons and Dragons the way it was meant to be played: as a pinball machine.

Bally/Midway released this TSRâ„¢ Dungeons & Dragonsâ„¢ cabinet 25 years ago, and I can attest that it is still all awesome. I haven't had this much fun playing pinball since high school. Though to be honest, I haven't played that much pinball since high school.

If you think role-playing games and pinball machines make an unlikely combination, consider the technological odd couple presented by pinball machines and the internet: specific details about this cabinet, its innards, and its marketing materials can be found online at the Internet Pinball Machine Database. Thank you, internet.

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*Or it may not. The "May" makes it legal. We checked.^**

**Anyway, it's chocolate; you know you want it. Go ahead, take a bite. You can stop anytime you want.^***

***Trust us, we're General Mills. Sure, we promised last year to reduce the sugar we put in foods marketed at children, but what else are we going to do with all that sugar if we don't put it in foods marketed at adults? Adults like sugar, too, right?^****

****Whatever. In any event, there's still a spoonful of real heart in every bowl, and that we don't have to qualify with an asterisk!

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Lois, your boyfriend, Superman, just gave you chocolates and a card. Superman, a man who can generate enough pressure to fabricate diamonds from raw coal, use x-ray vision to find undiscovered gold deposits, and swim to the ocean's greatest depths to recover natural pearls, gives his girlfriend chocolates and a card. Worse yet, Superman, a man whose brain works faster than a computer, who has matched wits and won against Brainiac, the universe's smartest supervillain, who has saved countless lives through the force of his own will alone, couldn't even be bothered to take the time to think of a better inscription for the card than "Be my valentine from Superman."

That expression on Lois' face isn't happiness. And there's a reason that Superman is rushing out that window. He may be super, but he's still just a man.

The best part of all of this? For Valentine's Day, Superman gave Lois the Schaff's.

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